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    Heart on the Run (Hearts of Parkerburg 2)
    Heart on the Run (Hearts of Parkerburg 2)
    Heart on the Run (Hearts of Parkerburg 2)
    Ebook246 pages3 hours

    Heart on the Run (Hearts of Parkerburg 2)

    By Havan Fellows and Lee Brazil

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    About this ebook

    Charles Darwin Millsworth, Chaz to one and all since infancy, has no wish to live up to the grandeur of his name. Fortunately, his Southern belle mama isn’t at all inclined to push her son into a career that won’t make him happy. She thinks he needs to loosen up and enjoy life. After all, that’s the whole point of being independently wealthy, isn’t it?

    Chaz can see her point, but his father died in his forties as did his father before him. As far as Chaz is concerned, he has limited time on this earth to make his dreams come true. And he refuses to leave anyone weeping over a wasted life.

    Sprocket Moretti is a simple guy. He loves his job, enjoys college, lives in his beloved childhood home—why worry about the little things when the big stuff looks so good. Unfortunately, one of the little things he tries not to stress over is a broken friendship with a very hot and bewildering sous chef. They were pals, hung out and had fun. But one night they stepped over that invisible line, and the next morning Chaz kicked Sprocket out of his bed and his life.

    Now, no matter how much Sprocket tries to charm Chaz, the guy has no desire to return to their pre-sex playful bantering ways. And if Sprocket stays true to his motto, this little thing—Chaz—should be written off and never worried about again.

    If Sprocket had known one night of reality-altering orgasms would endanger their easygoing friendship... How do you finish that sentence when all your mind wants is its friend back and all your body wants is another taste?

    The Hearts of Parkerburg stories can be read as standalones, each with a HEA...but trust me, you'll want to read about all the sweet happenings in this quaint little town.

    book one - Christmas in His Heart
    book two - Heart on the Run

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHavan Fellows
    Release dateNov 14, 2015
    ISBN9781941841365
    Heart on the Run (Hearts of Parkerburg 2)
    Author

    Havan Fellows

    I annoy, love, respect, scare, seduce, hurt, anger, infatuate, frustrate, flatter, envy, amuse and tolerate everyone. I just do it better in writing thanks to a little thing called...edits. Okay no, seriously...I'm a simple minded person who enjoys the escape from real life through a book. I write with the group Story Orgy and hope to continue doing so for a long time. I also am privileged to be with the Pulp Friction writers creating intermingling books in a world all our own. And just like every other red blooded human – I love hearing from people. So feel free to drop me a line – whether it's a comment on my blog, an email, a tweet or you track me down on FaceBook or Google + ... it's easy to catch someone who wants to be caught.

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      Book preview

      Heart on the Run (Hearts of Parkerburg 2) - Havan Fellows

      Charles Darwin Millsworth, Chaz to one and all since infancy, has no wish to live up to the grandeur of his name. Fortunately, his Southern belle mama isn’t at all inclined to push her son into a career that won’t make him happy. She thinks he needs to loosen up and enjoy life. After all, that’s the whole point of being independently wealthy, isn’t it?

      Chaz can see her point, but his father died in his forties as did his father before him. As far as Chaz is concerned, he has limited time on this earth to make his dreams come true. And he refuses to leave anyone weeping over a wasted life.

      Sprocket Moretti is a simple guy. He loves his job, enjoys college, lives in his beloved childhood home—why worry about the little things when the big stuff looks so good. Unfortunately, one of the little things he tries not to stress over is a broken friendship with a very hot and bewildering sous chef. They were pals, hung out and had fun. But one night they stepped over that invisible line, and the next morning Chaz kicked Sprocket out of his bed and his life.

      Now, no matter how much Sprocket tries to charm Chaz, the guy has no desire to return to their pre-sex playful bantering ways. And if Sprocket stays true to his motto, this little thing—Chaz—should be written off and never worried about again.

      If Sprocket had known one night of reality-altering orgasms would endanger their easygoing friendship… How do you finish that sentence when all your mind wants is its friend back and all your body wants is another taste?

      The Hearts of Parkerburg stories can be read as standalones, each with a HEA...but trust me, you'll want to read about all the sweet happenings in this quaint little town.

      Heart on the Run

      A Hearts of Parkerburg Story

      By

      Lee Brazil

      &

      Havan Fellows

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, small towns, and incidents are completely and absolutely a part of the authors’ creative imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons living or deceased, businesses, events or locales are entirely coincidental. Perhaps also a little bit fortuitous as well, because if you do find a doppelganger Parkerburg out there somewhere, please let us know, we might consider moving there and enjoying Maple Street ourselves. Think of the good lattes, great food and hunky men.

      Editing by: Jae Ashley

      Cover Art by: Author Services

      Published by: Appleton Publishing Avenue

      Copyright © November 2015 by Havan Fellows & Lee Brazil

      Printed in the United States of America

      ISBN# 978-1-941841-36-5

      All rights are reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical or otherwise, is forbidden without express written permission of the publisher/author. So please be good, good is fun.

      Table of Contents

      Dedication

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Epilogue

      Spread the Word

      More Hearts of Parkerburg

      About the Authors

      Trademarks

      Dedication

      Thank you to our readers. Last year we finally had an open slot in our schedules and wrote the book we’d talked about co-authoring for a while. We faced a lot of excitement and fear in the process – would our readers like our writing voices combined…could our friendship stand up to the heavy demands of writing together…would the book suck?

      But our readers confirmed what we secretly believed, our voices sound spectacular together, our friendship is rock solid, and we don’t suck. Well…um…okay, we might—

      Yeah, basically we’re saying it’s because of you, our loyal readers, that we decided to walk down Maple Street again. We look forward to many more strolls through Parkerburg with you in the future.

      Thank you,

      Lee Brazil & Havan Fellows

      And now…for your reading enjoyment…

      Heart on the Run

      Chapter One

      Ooh…sweetie, look! Cute boy alert. His mother’s dulcet tones whispered in his ears as clearly as though she stood behind him instead of being safely ensconced some three thousand miles away. He could picture her there, head tilted to the side, one elegantly manicured nail twisted through a golden curl, blue eyes sparkling with delight. He was blushing—he could tell from the heat at the back of his neck and the sudden dampness of his palms.

      I know, Ma, Chaz whispered, hoping his lips didn’t move. Grimly, he kept his attention focused on the whiteboard and the day’s specials. The cute boy—and there was no denying that Sprocket, even with all his tattoos and piercings, was both cute and boyish—stood on the other side of the plate glass, making exaggerated faces and wildly gesticulating with both hands laden with coffee cups from the Prudence’s Perks coffee shop on the corner.

      He didn’t even need to be able to hear Sprocket to know what all the excitement was about. It was fall. Pumpkin time. Prudence’s specialty of the season was a delicious nutmeg and clove spiced blend that people, including Chaz and his boss Dermot salivated over.

      Chaz… Said boss startled Chaz by reaching over his shoulder and snatching the dry-erase marker. I told you…beet relish and goat cheese crudités. Not goat relish. What the hell is goat relish? Are you insane?

      I didn’t… Blinking in astonishment, Chaz surveyed the board. In his own neat calligraphy, the main reason he was trusted with this task, it clearly said goat relish. I’m sorry. Miserably aware of Dermot’s irritability, though that had been much better since Dermot and Xander had finally acknowledged that they were a thing, he stepped back. I was distracted.

      Dermot’s gaze strayed to the window. I see. Does he think it’s a secret that Prudence’s menu changed yesterday? She always starts the seasonal roasts on the first of October.

      I guess. Chaz refused to look at Sprocket, who was apparently still carrying on outside the window. I can fix the board, he offered as Dermot scrawled something illegible on the board and stepped back, tapping his finger on his chin to read it.

      Scowling, Dermot flipped the marker at him. Do it. I don’t know how you manage to write so neatly like that. But anyway…after you get the board done, you can go calm Sprocket down before he lifts off or melts down. Bring me back a coffee and then get started on dicing the beets for the relish.

      Great. Chaz bit his lip and nodded. He got it. He had to pay his dues. Graduating from the Culinary Institute was only part of becoming qualified in the kitchen. The rest…

      Well, as Dermot’s sous chef, he’d done a lot of chopping, dicing, and slicing. What he really wanted was to be able to put his own spin on things. Gathering his courage, feeling like Daniel bearding the lion in his den, he took up the familiar argument. So… Dermot? Can I show you the menu plans I made for lunches? His heart beat rapidly, and a light-headed sensation made him sway on his feet as he waited, breath held for an answer.

      Dermot didn’t even look at him. His eyes sort of glazed over, and his lips moved silently.

      Ahem. Okay then. Chaz turned toward the board, hiding his furious blush and cursing his auburn hair and pale complexion. Never mind.

      Leave them on my desk before you go home tonight.

      It was more than he’d expected, but less than he’d hoped for. Chaz squeezed the dry-erase marker tight in his hand and carefully wrote in the menu change. When he was sure it said beet and not goat, he capped the pen and set it on the ledge of the board.

      A glance to the left showed him Sprocket hadn’t vanished, given up, or wound down. He’d just found a new outlet for his enthusiasm in the form of his boss, the ever cheerful and exuberant Xander Leahman. Leahman stood at the door of Alimentaire, holding what looked like Chinese takeout boxes, but couldn’t be, because even Leahman wasn’t brave enough to bring outside food into Alimentaire, an amused smile on his lips, watching Sprocket’s antics.

      Maybe I can slip past… Chaz murmured, wiping his damp palms on his khaki work pants. Or go through the kitchen… But that would add more than ten minutes to the whole get me some coffee, minion demand, and…

      And bottom line, Sprocket was a damned persistent man.

      Odds were, he’d be standing there, chatting up someone new when Chaz returned.

      Shoring up his defenses, Chaz dragged in a deep, calming breath, counted to ten, like his mama taught him, and threw himself out into the fray.

      The jangling bell attracted both Xander’s and Sprocket’s attention. Xander’s smile widened, his mouth parted to utter a greeting. Before any words came, though, Sprocket whirled with an excited squeal.

      Chaz saw it coming. He held up a hand, as though that would do any good.

      Xander saw it too. He stepped back and raised his Chinese takeout boxes.

      Even Sprocket saw it coming. The squeal died. His cute little bow of a mouth turned into a startled o that triggered filthy memories Chaz had been suppressing for months.

      The breeze caught one plastic lid, swirled it in a delicate dance of passion and denial, then swept it off down the street. A pumpkin and spice scented arc of coffee, thick and creamy and scalding hot, whirled up from the cup like a genie from a brass lamp, seemed to hover in midair, choosing its target, before darting forward and tagging Chaz squarely in the chest.

      He dropped his hand, squeezed his eyes shut, and counted again. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. He opened his eyes and reassessed the situation. Hello, Sprocket, Xander.

      Hi there, Chaz. Xander’s eyes danced merrily, and his lips twitched.

      I’m so sorry! Sprocket reached, coffee cup in hand to help. Let me—

      No. I’m fine. Instinct kicked in, self-preservation…whatever. Chaz backed away from that reaching hand, ignoring the hurt in Sprocket’s gaze. Got to get the boss’s coffee. He bolted around the two, aware of their voices as the distance between them increased.

      ***

      Sprocket tapped his tongue against the double studs in the left side of his bottom lip as he stared at the quickly disappearing figure. He was ready to throw in the towel—which would’ve come in seriously handy a few moments ago—with trying to patch things up with Chaz. Anybody else he probably would’ve. If someone wanted nothing to do with him fine, so be it.

      Except, losing an associate didn’t bug him as much as this chasm between him and the sous chef. Who knew their light friendship meant so much to him?

      He stared at the entrance to Prudence’s coffee shop where Chaz had disappeared.

      Yeah, Sprocket missed the easy conversations they used to share, the jokes and laughs. He didn’t understand why everything had suddenly screeched to a halt.

      Okay, technically he did understand it. Some people couldn’t differentiate between sex for pleasure and sex for forever…and maybe Chaz was one of those people. But if Sprocket had known that their one time almost a year ago would fuck up their friendship…hell, he didn’t know. Would he have stopped Chaz from talking him into going over for a homemade dinner on the house? Would he have stopped Chaz when the lean, handsome auburn-haired man started undressing him? Would he have stopped Chaz when the man dropped to his knees and stared up with those intense sky blue eyes?

      No.

      Sprocket couldn’t say he would’ve. Which proved he was a certified dick who deserved the cold shoulder he’d received. Sure, at least Chaz was talking to him now, something he hadn’t done for months after their night together. But it was the difference between answering, Fine, when someone asked how you were instead of stopping and really explaining that you were shitty because someone who used to enjoy your company and smile at your jokes now found you the most unfunny person in Parkerburg.

      Sprocket sucked donkey balls.

      Care to explain what just happened? Xander broke into his thoughts with a gentle nudge of his shoulder.

      Sprocket released the studs he’d been reflexively teething. It’s a tale as old as time… He came then he ran, Sprocket mumbled, turning to walk to Craft Time, the craft store where he worked as assistant manager.

      Wow…you and Chaz?

      Sprocket snorted, though it didn’t hold any of the humor Xander—the perpetually happy manager at Craft Time—exuded three hundred sixty-five days a year. There never was a me and Chaz. That was the problem.

      But you want…

      Sprocket knew what Xander was fishing for, but he wasn’t in the mood to bite. He’d been so excited over pumpkin coming back he had to share it with Chaz. It was only fitting, considering the pumpkin latte was what they’d bonded over last year. This was a small town and they worked on the same street, so of course they’d seen each other around, but those moments in line waiting for their favorite autumn-time flavor, they really got to know each other.

      I just want my friend back. Why do skin and body fluids have to ruin that? He mumbled the last part, but from the chuckle Xander tried to cover up with a cough, Sprocket knew his manager had heard him.

      He threw both cups of coffee in the plastic-lined, wrought iron trash receptacle attached to the matching lamppost and stomped away before his boss could counter his comment. Sprocket wasn’t in the mood to hear it, whatever it might’ve been.

      Luckily, Xander didn’t follow him, though he really didn’t expect the man to. While Sprocket attempted to get Chaz’s attention, Xander had strolled up with some of the best Chinese food within a hundred mile radius. He was determined to rile up his lover and sneak it into the restaurant somehow. It was for the best Sprocket made a hasty exit. Dermot Alasdair liked to butt heads with him, and not in the fun skin and body fluids type of way.

      He tugged open the door to Craft Time and heavy footed it past the front counter with the registers.

      Hey, I thought you were getting coffee, Thom questioned.

      Keeping his speed up and his eyes down he answered, No coffee.

      You mean Prudence was completely out of coffee?

      Yeah, and the bookstore is out of books. Sprocket rolled his eyes but still didn’t stop.

      Really?

      Sprocket entered the office, not answering.

      Whoa, where’s the fire? Shawna, the owner of Craft Time, asked while throwing her palms up and facing him.

      Thom’s an idiot. He peeled off his coat and tossed it to the right corner of the room behind the door. It levitated in the air for a couple of seconds before landing on the top peg of the coatrack. It wasn’t perfectly hung, but it did the job.

      Funny, people have said that about you for years. Shawna laughed, sipping from her can of Coke.

      Yeah, well, people are right. He threw himself into the spare office chair, his momentum rolling him across the room to lightly tap the wall on the far side.

      She crossed her arms under her well-endowed chest and stared at him with purpose in her eyes. Well, it must be getting close to Christmas, that seems to be the only season when my employees become disgruntled.

      It is the holiday with the highest suicide rate. He wrapped his hands around his tattooed throat and lolled his tongue out of the corner of his mouth.

      Christ, morbid much? She shook her head, but returned to her spreadsheet on the computer. You sure you don’t want to do these numbers for me? I’ll cover the store.

      Xander threatened to ink my jewels if I kept doing them. That is one part of my body the needle is off limits to. Anyway, I already know the programs, you still need to learn them. He rolled his chair over to her and grabbed her can of soda, shaking it. There was only one more good swig left sloshing around inside.

      Sprocket, don’t you dare, she warned.

      Too late. He smiled before tossing the can back and finishing the last gulp. Afterward, he crushed the can in his hand and let out a nice long sigh of refreshment.

      She slapped him on his arm, hard. I can’t believe you just did that. I backwash, you know.

      He shrugged. The last sip in any can is pure, unadulterated backwash. Should we discuss all the interesting things my gastric juices can conquer?

      She pointed to the door, not quite able to hide her smile. Out.

      He chuckled humorlessly. Yep, time for me to cover the floor and earn this extra money you’re paying me. He tossed the empty can over his head and across the room. It bounced off the rim of the wastebasket before plunking in.

      There seems to be a theme to my day…skin and body fluids.

      Chapter Two

      Beet juice stained his fingers purple and he’d forgotten his gloves. Chaz scrunched his hands into fists and rammed them into the pockets of his down jacket. The wind held a bitter chill, but the night sky was clear as…something black and clear. There’s a word for that… Sprocket probably knew the word. His former friend and one time lover knew all kinds of strange, random things. He was a college student majoring in something cerebral; the brown-eyed man wasn’t just a pretty face.  

      In passing,

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